Twenty Seven Steps
by Hopeless Desires
Summary: Your name is Hinamori Amu and you do not believe in wishes on faraway balls of gas. [ alternate universe, slow updates ]


**Alt. Summary: **Your name is Hinamori Amu and you want to know who you are.

[In a parallel world, Hinamori Amu never wishes upon a star. In another world, Hinamori Amu never becomes a Guardian. In this world, Hinamori Amu is alone, nobody is helping her change. But in the end, Hinamori Amu still takes steps forward – and maybe, just maybe, she'll find herself – without changing.

The world is funny like that. ]

**Warning: **second person (for the first chapter only, unless you like this), some angst, character introspection, and an alternate timeline/universe. Also, character development. Gen.

**. . .**

Your name is Hinamori Amu and you are sick of people forcing their views of your identity on you.

In classrooms, you are Cool and Spicy. You are Hinamori-san, Senpai, the girl who will become the guardian, who has a foreign lover, who is beautiful and strong and beat up a government to get what she wanted. You are a person they are in awe of. You are a person they are frightened of, believing in rumors they have made up themselves. Aren't they so stupid? They're all stupid.

In Japan, you are supposed to be shy, cute, adorable, and not too smart. You should be beautiful, but not too beautiful as to scare away your future husband's confidence. And you will have a husband. You don't have a choice. When you have one, you better know your place – three feet behind your husband, walking on his shadow. Seen and not heard. Useless ornament. That is who you are.

In the American dream, you're a sexual toy, entertainment, half of society – but really, are you really that respected? Have you seen the advertisements – of the nude girls holding hamburgers, cameras focused on their thighs, hips, stomach, chest, lips closing on the sandwich?

In living rooms, you are "so cool, onee-chan!" and "my daughter is so cool and spicy!" You wonder how elementary school rumors have reached the ears of middle aged parents – and why even them believe in this charade you are strutting around with.

Aren't parents supposed to know you like their left hands know the way to their bottoms in the toilet without the need to look? Isn't that right?

To conquer the love of your heart, you should be bashful, demure. Don't be too strong, whether physically, mentally or emotionally – boys can't take it. They need to know they are 'superior' to something. Be submissive. Smile. Cry. Blush. Like, you know, a shojo manga heroine.

In bedrooms, the charade never goes away. There is an invisible audience watching, the beat of hushed gossip behind brick walls, over pillow pressed to ears. You try to pretend that you are Hinamori Amu, even when you're in your bathroom, when you shower. The only time you try, however uselessly, to uncover the layers of your identity, it's when your head hits the pillow, or when the droplets of water slide down your face, matt down your hair.

And even then –

In your mind, you are a frantic, shocked, funny young girl. You always ramble around about how unfair your life is, when are you going to be who you _are_?

And then? Tell me, dear 'Inner' – who am I? I am certainly not this Haruno Sakura you are imitating. Anime dictates I should think like this, be secretly like this, a kuudere, a tsudere –

But am I, really?

No. This is not who you are.

You, 'Hinamori Amu' are –

**. . .**

You sit on the closed toilet seat inside the bathroom stall. There's water dripping from a faucet in your brain. _Drip, drip._

This is who you are. Empty. Nothing. Unknown and your days are flying by.

**. . .**

You're eating dinner – well, more like sullenly shoving food down your throat while blankly watching TV. There is a plump woman on it talking about Guardian spirits or whatever – Naeko Saeko or something like that?

"This Nobuki Saeko! She's a famous entrepreneur – capable of seeing things normal people can't!"

"Isn't that clairvoyance?" You say, unconvinced.

"But she's professional!"

"So are the airbrushed models. And the horror movie actors."

Ami is silent throughout the conversation, eyes tracked on the TV screen. Her eyes widen in horror for every second she watches the woman talk. "U…uwaaa! Onee-chaaaan!" She throws herself at you – or however much she can cling to you when sitting in another chair – and cowers. "I'm afraid of ghoOSTSSSSS!"

"You'd scare all the ghosts away," you murmur. Your father coos out something about how cool you are.

Then the conversation breaks down into four people talking at the same time about different things. Ami is sobbing without tears – dear little actress she is, however scared she really is -, you are insisting that there is _no such thing as ghosts_, your mother shrieks in delight about the dynamics of her two children clashing, while your father shouts about Ami's pictures and her innate model.

"I'm telling you, for the final time," you direct a scorching, mildly irritated look at Ami, "there aren't any guardian ghosts."

_"Yes there are_," the TV lady pipes in.

There is a momentary silence, and then Ami shrieks and Amu tries not to and her mother and father – well, who knows what they're doing, confusing grownups they are. They're probably forgetting the very moment so they can pretend there's no such things as 'TV people talking back to you, Amu-chan!".

_Is she talking to me? _you wonder.

_"That I am, Amu-chan."_

Okay.

_UWAAAAAAAA!_

"This is stupid—" You try to appear unaffected, scrambling internally for a scientific explanations, because TVs don't sass back!

_"A person who understands you and tries to steer you to your dream is not stupid."_

Your entire family is too busy gushing at Ami's pictures, and Ami poses, trying to encourage your father into another photo shoot, and they do. They don't hear this paranormal conversation you're having with the TV. In fact, the man with – Nobuki, was it? – isn't even focusing, his face is frozen in his open-mouthed smile. It feels for a moment like this conversation is heavy, important, and only you and Nobuki are the participants. The other viewers might be sitting at their dinner tables frozen mid-TV watching.

A person steering you to your dream. To what they think is your dream. Because Hinamori Amu has no dream, and her guardian angel will make her have one it chose for her.

_Never._

You don't want anyone to make you do anything – no, no, no! No more! Godda—

You stand up, about to declare that you were "going to go to my room", but you look at your mother and you know, you know what she's going to say.

_"My daughter is so Cool and Spicy!"_

She will not check in at night, see if you're alright. In fact, she won't reprimand you for your bad manners, leaving the table without permission.

No. She expects that of you. She has this idea of you, and you're not sure if it's true or not, you're not sure you want your mother to think of you as an intense, distant and disrespectful person who doesn't really value her. You're also not sure you want her to put you on a pedestal, either, because…

Don't pedestals always fall?

So you stop, close your mouth while standing, towering over you're sitting parents (and Ami, who's standing on her chair, shoving her hip out). And you think.

You really think. For yourself.

"I'll clean my dishes," you declare. And you stand there, floating in a sort of expectation. Like, maybe her mother's smile, or her surprise, or your father's heart attack, or tears, or anything. Because you've probably just made the first actual 'Amu' decision in your life. For once.

But what you expect…it's not what you get.

"Oh?" Your mother says, eyes narrowed in confusion, like _'this is not my daughter, who is this'_. And then she beams. "Oh! My daughter's so cool and private! She's so territorial and possessive – I can see the intense romance some lucky guy is going to get one day! It's like a complete switch between traditional shojo manga romance. The cold, jealousy driven girl and the determined boy who gets to her –"

"_WHAAAAAT?_" your father squeak-roars, and you might see him blink away furious tears. "_NEVER! AMU-CHAN IS MINE."_

The entire room silences. The suggestive declaration bounces on the walls. Your father's face pales as he realizes what he's hinted.

Your mother glares. "No. Incest. _Tou-san_."

You slam your hands down on the table. They quiet. Even Ami shuts up, stops posing, and her arms hang limp. They look at you with wide eyes, and you wonder if they see the _utter rage _you feel.

You pick yourself up, you take your plate, and your eyes slide unconsciously at the TV before you leave. Nobuki looks at you with this silent understanding, and – and – something else.

Something like fear. Like something is going differently to what she scripted, and inside, you feel viciously glad, because you are sick of this.

And as you enter your kitchen, you hear the heavy atmosphere disperse.

"That's my cool girl!" You father says, and you blink away tears.

**. . .**

You wash your plate in the kitchen alone, lost in thoughts.

In another world, Hinamori Amu would have wished upon a star. She would have been brave enough, stupid enough, to believe the woman's words and wish upon a faraway ball of gas, even though Hinamori Amu is afraid, so very afraid of change.

You can't control change. And Hinamori Amu – you – are used to being able to at least control your facades.

But in this world, Hinamori Amu is too cowardly, too smart to wish on another sun that is not hers, even if it's brighter than hers. That sun belongs to someone else, and if she's going to change (and she will, she willshewillshewill), _she's_ going to change herself. She isn't going to let something else – sun, star, Nobuki Saeko, okaa-san, otou-san, the entire world – change her.

And.

And like that, everything changes.

**. . .**

**.**

**. . .**

**A/N: **okay, not at all like my usual stories' standards, but hey, what can I say? I didn't bother sparing more than forty so minutes for this. Don't expect novel quality.

Anyways, **this story basically follows the premise: what if Hinamori Amu didn't get her guardian characters the same time she did in the anime?**

**I had that idea and I'm running with it. Obviously, this story isn't going to follow canon, but I will turn Amu into a self-taught badass. Will she get guardian characters at some point? Maybe. Will she be the joker? Maybe. What will she be?!**

**Read on and you'll find out.**

Also, important:

_\- This is __**different than canon.**__ Basically, an alternate timeline or universe set in the same Shugo Chara world._

_\- Amu will be a __**BAMF**__._

_\- __**Amu is going to be developed**__ in this story. So will the others._

_\- This will be filled with puberty and self-discovery. Also, __**mysteries**__ and adventures – more so than the anime (what big words!)_

_\- This is __**Gen. As in, no pairings. Hints, yes, and maybe I'll change my mind at some point**__, but if you want Tadamu or Amuto or Rimahiko – well, this is focused on character development, friendships and action. I won't have time to give more than hints, and I like to please all types of fans. There will be hints of every type of ships possible in this story. Again, I might change my mind. But it's unlikely. So if you're here for a romance fix…well, come back when you need a __**badass!Amu and awesome!friendships**__ fix._

_\- The first chapter is (mostly) second person. __**I might switch to third person if this bothers you too much**__._

_\- this story is highly unlikely to be quickly updated if I never get reviews. __**I need some feedback**__, since I'm not sure if this is the type of stories the Shugo Chara archives likes._

That said,

Drop a review,

_Hopeless Desires._

**Question: **(please reply to this through reviews, so others can agree with you) **Do you want this to continue as second person **(you walk down the street - you're not happy - your mom is angry) **or switch to third person** (Amu walked down the street - she's not happy - her mom is angry)**? Please answer this, as I need at least three people's answers to write out the next chapter.**


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